


Reflective

by FancifulRivers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Hogwarts, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 14:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulRivers/pseuds/FancifulRivers
Summary: Harry Potter brings home his report card.





	Reflective

Harry stood in front of his guardian, doing his best not to fidget. His new da (although he still struggled not to call him Professor) didn't like it when people fidgeted. Harry never got in proper trouble over it (it was certainly  _nothing_ like the Dursleys), but that didn't mean he didn't get told to stand up straight and keep calm, had one of the Weasley twins slipped some jumping beans in his pockets.

This time, Harry's nervousness had nothing to do with the mythical jumping beans that he still wanted Fred and George to show him, and  _everything_ to do with the parchment Professor Snape was squinting at. His teacher at the magical primary school in Hogsmeade had sent it ahead by owl, thwarting Harry's half-planned desire to throw it 'accidentally' in the fireplace or let Hagrid's dog slobber on it.

The Dursleys would have expected nothing less from him. When he lived with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, he was  _supposed_ to get bad grades. Well... He was supposed to not show up Dudley, but considering his cousin, that amounted to the same thing. The best day in his admittedly short life was when Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape showed up on the Dursleys' doorstep, rescued him from his cupboard, and told him that he would never have to go back again. Professor Dumbledore had looked horribly sad when he said it, like someone had just died and he hadn't had time to recover yet. Professor Snape-  _Da_ \- just looked angry, his lips pinched and his eyes dark and flinty, like a thunderstorm brewing.

He didn't originally go to Professor Snape. He went to the Weasleys, but it didn't take long for the professors to realise that wasn't the best place for him. It was too noisy, too rowdy, and Molly Weasley, well,  _scared_ him a little bit. Not a lot, she was friendly and bustling most of the time, but he saw what she did when Fred and George got bad marks. She  _smacked their hands_ and when Harry saw that, he thought he was at the Dursleys again and he ended up running outside and scrambling up a tree and he stayed there for four hours, curled into the tightest ball he could manage while baby tears dripped down his cheeks.

That wasn't the only incident, but it was the one that tipped the pot over, so to speak. Professor Snape had taken him away, back to the enormous castle called Hogwarts, and told him that he was Harry's guardian now. He also assured Harry, in very stiff tones, that Harry was welcome to visit the Weasleys any time he liked. Harry liked that a lot better, having someone all to himself.

Professor Snape also enrolled him in school down in the wizarding village. This school taught magic subjects alongside Muggle ones, so Harry learned maths and science and reading at the same time he learned about Potions and Charms and Herbology. He wasn't  _old_ enough to have his own wand and  _do_ any spells, of course, but he could learn some of the theory and the history of the wizarding world. And they got to make some very simple child's potions, with close supervision. He liked that the most, since Professor Snape taught Potions.

His Potions grades were fine. But he wasn't worried about his Potions grades, Harry thought morosely, trying not to read too much into the wrinkle that had appeared between his da's eyebrows. No, he was worried about his History of Magic grade, which bordered on Dreadful. And he  _knew_ that the teacher had commented on his handwriting because even he could tell it was atrocious, but he was so afraid to tell Professor Snape that he couldn't hold his pencil or his quill very well because Uncle Vernon once broke his fingers. Every time Professor Snape heard about something else the Dursleys had done, he got that angry look again and Harry knew it wasn't directed at him, but he still didn't like it.

"Harry," Professor Snape's voice broke the silence. Harry's gaze jerked up to meet his da's, green eyes glittering with tears behind square-rimmed glasses. His old ones had broken, and he liked the square ones better. Professor Snape agreed. "Most of your grades are excellent. I'm pleased." Harry cringed, waiting for the  _but_. There was always a  _but_ with a statement like that. 

"What happened in History?" His da's voice was gentle, but Harry flinched anyway.

"I'm sorry," he babbled. "It's really hard to pay attention, but I tried, I don't know what happened, it's like- like there's this whole  _other_ bit I'm supposed to know and I  _don't_ and-"

"Your teacher also mentioned your handwriting," Professor Snape cut in. Harry chewed on his bottom lip.

"It's hard for me to write," Harry whispered. "I can't- I can't hold my quill right-" Frustration leaked in his tone and he had to blink very rapidly to clear away the incipient tears.

"Let me see your hand," Professor Snape ordered. Flushed, Harry extended his writing hand, letting his da examine the tiny, damaged digits. "The Dursleys?" Professor Snape asked. Harry nodded, his throat tightening.

"I will work on fixing your hand for you, Harry," his da told him. "Then we can practise your handwriting together. All right?" Harry's tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. He was stupid for asking, when his da seemed content to let the matter lie (at least for now), but he  _had_ to know.

"What about- what about History?" He blurted out. His da looked at him, dark eyes contemplative.

"Did you do your best?" Professor Snape asked. Harry nodded, cheeks reddening. What if his da didn't believe him? What if- 

But his da had already knelt down, wrapping his arms around Harry and enfolding him in soft, familiar black robes.

"That's all I care about, Harry," his da murmured into the messy cloud of his hair. "I want you to do your best. That is all I expect from you. We will work on History as well. Perhaps it is proving difficult for you because you were with the Muggles for so long."

"Thanks, Pro- da," Harry whispered, correcting himself. He couldn't see it, but he could almost  _feel_ the smile his da now wore.

"You're welcome, Harry," Professor Snape said, and led him to the table for dinner.


End file.
